The Cost of Choices
by Tashana Ambrosia
Summary: Set directly after Buu saga. Vegeta processes his longest day while coming to terms with the choices that he made. He told Karakrot that Bulma&Trunks didn't matter, but the other Saiyan called BS. Vegeta chose self-sacrifice to save the earth & the family. Now with his life returned, he's facing how his choices affected his family Rated M mostly for language.


**The Cost of Choices**

The trip back from the Lookout was quieter than expected. Trunks had been overly excited, but coming back from the dead was invigorating. His son expressed himself like a human all too often, but this celebration of cheating death and rising from the ashes to face another enemy was rooted in the boy's blood. So intermittently the boy had chirped about how awesome all the fighters had been in taking down Buu. His woman, however, was silent and almost eerily so, as they reached the compound. Her parents prattled on while they ate dinner, with Trunks proving the commentary on the day from their side of the table.

The blue-haired woman excused herself from the table, reminded Trunks of his bedtime, then disappeared from the room. He watched her walk away his eyes narrowing, not sure what to make of her lack of tears, temper, or sentimentality.

Vegeta stepped outside to breathe in the fresh air. There had been so many battles like the one today and yet none like it. Every fight was different, a lesson to use to become greater. He was replaying some of the moments when the door had opened and Trunks shuffled up next to him.

The boy's fidgeting made him grind his teeth. _Could this child ever just be still?_ "Do you need something?"

"Naw. I just wanted to be next to you." Trunks shoved his hands in his pockets. "It's pretty cool that Goten's dad is back, but I'm still luckier than he is. I mean you've always been here. I think you're a better dad than Goku is."

Trunks' words surprised Vegeta, and he didn't know how to respond, so he huffed and looked back up at the stars. A child's observation of the world: Vegeta was present so he was the better father. Notwithstanding the simplicity of the statement, it was nice to hear him named the superior. The lavender haired boy had done well through all of this. He had learned quickly, attacked bravely, but recklessly and without any sense of real discipline. That lack of self-control would need to be rectified, yet he couldn't fault the boy too much for that trait. He had a good son. He was proud of Trunks.

They stood there for a spell as the fireflies darted around the yard in the cooling night air. He recognized the boy wasn't going inside without him so he motioned to the door. "Your bedtime is approaching. I'll follow you to make sure you do as you were told."

"Okay, Dad."

They made their way down the hallway for the living quarters and stopped outside the boy's door. Trunks glanced up at him for a moment before his gaze went back to the ground. Vegeta resisted the urge to roll his eyes and attempted to control his growl, "What is it, Trunks? Do you have something you wish to say?"

"I'm proud of you, Dad. You fought really hard and even died to save me and mom. I just…you're my hero…" The boy darted into his room, but Vegeta caught the door before it could be slammed shut.

He laid his hand on his son's head. Those blue eyes the boy had inherited from his mother were misted over, the day no doubt catching up with the younger half-Saiyan. "Sleep in. We'll start training again the day after tomorrow, but we'll go fetch Kakarot and his younger brat and go out to the wilderness instead of using the GR."

"Really?"

"Do you want me to change my mind?" Vegeta arched his eyebrow. _If the boy didn't want this favor…_

"No. No. I totally want to! Thanks, Dad! Goodnight."

Vegeta held the door for another moment. "Goodnight, Trunks. I'm proud of you as well." He closed the door swiftly, but still heard his son's astonished gasp at the compliment.

He silently made his way further down the hallway, anticipating a long hot shower and his bed, but that depended entirely on the mood his woman was in. Her earlier silence had him on edge. He was exhausted. He wanted to rest. He needed to rest. This day; this fight – it had not been…not what he planned and he needed to process without her berating him.

He entered his bedroom to find it empty, but he didn't care at the moment. Peace and quiet was exactly what he wanted. She would no doubt be waiting for him when he exited the bathroom, so he took a ridiculously long shower. He let the scalding hot water run down his body as if it could wash away the thoughts running through his mind.

He had allowed himself to be controlled, again. In some ways his pride had not been an ally today, it had been a liability. He was not looking forward to hearing her opinions on the matter. She would likely be past her initial happiness at his resurrection and now focused on his perceived madness.

She couldn't possibly understand. She didn't know what it felt like. She didn't have a warrior's battle-cry constantly screaming in her delicate ears. Didn't understand how he needed to be the best, how his blood and his ancestry wouldn't allow him any other way. How failing was failing his entire race. This sheltered existence that she'd thrived in wouldn't afford her any comprehension to what he needed to prove. He would tell her that too. He wouldn't let her scream at him about, 'how could he' and the like. He would make his points, and then sleep even if it was on the floor of his GR.

For that clown, Kakarot, fighting was a simple contest of strength, but for the Prince, it was a matter of sheer survival. _If you weren't the strongest, you didn't live_. Vegeta would have gladly taken death before any dishonor, yet he'd lived in dishonor since he stepped foot on this cursed blue-green rock.

He was humiliated by the third-class warrior besting him, avenging his people, and saving him…He had become soft and complacent in this mediocrity. He was a warrior; born a prince of a warrior people. He was one of the last and he was turning his back on his heritage. He had accepted this life here and forged attachments, just like that…that…

"UGH!" He growled and scrubbed himself with the soap forcing any further thoughts away as he attempted to mediate and clear his mind.

At least that woman of his had enough courtesy not to throw herself at him upon his return. He didn't need her wailing about his ineffective sacrifice in front of those fools. He strategically chose that death to rid the world of a monster, maybe to atone he supposed. It had incensed him to no end that Boo had the gall to survive. He knew his mate and child had mourned him, he'd felt her anguish even in the other world. But it was in vain, a futile gesture that accomplished nothing.

Even in that moment of self-sacrifice, he had failed.

He was spent; exhausted from playing the fool for the gods who designed this universe.

He wouldn't hear it tonight. He would not hear her caterwauling about what he had done. He was long past ready to rest. He dried himself, leaving the towel wrapped around his waist as he stormed out of the steam-filled room, "Woman, whatever you…"

She wasn't there.

The room was empty. She had come and gone, while he'd been in the shower, evidenced by the red dress hung over her desk chair and her lingering scent. He was confused, dressing in a pair of sleeping shorts as he focused on her tiny ki to find her.

It took him a mere moment to discern that she was in her lower lab, the one beneath the compound. When she was angry she would often throw herself into working on a project to distract herself. Normally her rage and determination would make her burn bright, but her ki was muted...Something was wrong.

He wasn't some whipped pup, but he cared for her. He didn't want her suffering needlessly, maybe she was just exhausted? She had been through a battle; suffering loss and facing her own death. She wasn't one to shrink away from danger, but being face to face with that creature was something else entirely. If the day was weighing on him this much, then it must be much worse for her. That would explain her quiet and subdued state. He'd just convince her that it was her idea to get some rest with him, even let her squall at him a bit to abate her.

He made his way through the compound, followed the path outside to the lab compound, and finally down the steps to her private lab. He peered around the corner for a fraction of a second as to avoid detection.

She was sitting on the floor dressed in an old pair of coveralls while she tinkered absentmindedly with one of the bots she'd made for him. Her makeup was wiped off and her hair was tucked behind her ears, revealing a grease smug marring her pale cheek.

He had her memorized in most ways and he knew what was coming. She was going to bawl the moment he revealed himself. It was going to take forever to get her calm down. Might as well get it over…

"I'd appreciate if you'd stop lurking."

"I do not _lurk_." He snapped before he could stop himself.

She sighed.

And now the tears…

"I'd like to be alone if you don't mind." Her surprisingly clear blue eyes, met his dark ones and her voice was reserved, detached. There was no indication that she'd been weeping down here, in truth, it was as if all emotion had been drained from her. She was not acting like herself.

Still, he normally would have obliged her request, but something tugged at him. He felt uncomfortable leaving her in this state. Her sullen attitude was suffocatingly tangible.

He sat on the floor next to her.

He would not leave her like this.

They did not speak. The sounds of metal on metal echoed off the lab's walls. The woman turned the machine this way and that as if it held some secret. She didn't acknowledge his presence but didn't ask him to leave again. After almost thirty minutes of the oppressive silence, she set the object down and began to put her tools away.

"What is wrong with you?" He growled. Maybe if he could rile her up it would get some life back into her.

She glanced up at him and bit her lip before reminding him, "You died today."

"Tsh. Practically everyone died today." He snorted. " _You_ died today."

"Not the way you did." She closed the lid of her small toolbox and encapsulated it.

"What do you want me to say? It was not a good day."

She snorted a small spark of her temper flashing. "That's not even what…You're such an idiot."

He balled his fists and swallowed hard before countering through clenched teeth. "I'm the idiot? I'm the one who sacrificed himself in an attempt to save this mudball planet! I'm the one that…"

"Allowed himself to be controlled." Her eyes hardened as she continued. "Allowed himself to go back into darkness. All for the sake of a fight and chance too…"

"You couldn't possibly understand what it's like to live in the shadow of that _idiot_! To know that he'll always be better than me, despite all of my efforts and training!" He roared as he shifted to loom over her, "This was one my chance to finally beat him, to win, to be the best, and to take back my pride! Woman, you'll never understand…"

"That's why you're such an idiot. You can't even tell when you've won." She leaned back to keep them on even ground but stayed seated. "You've achieved something that Goku never could."

He folded his arms over his chest. "And what's that?"

"Immortality. You've achieved immortality. Goku is good and strong, but that's him and only him. That reputation won't outlive him for long. Gohan is afraid of what he is and is more apt to stick his nose in a book. He wants desperately to be human, to be normal. He's not a warrior and he's not unhappy about that. Goten is undisciplined and would rather play than train. I think spending time with Trunks is the only thing that's kept him training. Can you image where he'd be without Trunks pushing him? Without our son's badgering, Goten wouldn't have been anywhere near as strong as he was today."

She rubbed a rag over her face, smearing the stain further up her cheek, "I love Goku and he's one of my dearest friends. But despite biology and the blood that's in his veins, he is very human. He has no concept of what it means to be what he is and his sons understand it even less. But our son, our Trunks…"

A single tear escaped, trailing down through the grease stain making a stark white line. "Trunks understands his human side _and_ what it means to be Saiyan. He knows the legends that you've told him, the way you've taught him to train. He is proud to be your son and one of your people. You achieve immortality through him. The generations that come after our son, will know who you were. They will know the name Vegeta and what that bloodline really stands for. That means something. That should mean something to you."

Shock had rendered him speechless and he stared, all but slack-jawed, at her as she further explained.

"What I saw today…I don't understand it; I don't. I made sacrifices for our family, for you… I gave you a home, a place to become stronger, my body, our son, and I even gave you my heart. Why wasn't that enough? How could you just abandon the life we built?" Another tear streaked down her face, but she wiped it away dismissively.

"I accepted that our relationship wasn't going to be easy, but…" Anger flared up her ki as she struggled to convey her thoughts and she drew in an unsteady breath, "But I still wanted you, come hell, high-water, or anything else that this world threw at us. I only asked for one thing in return and that was your loyalty."

He blinked. _Loyalty...this was about his..._

"We established that our life was going to be a battle, but we agreed that we'd face it together. But in the middle of this battle, you turned your back on me. Vegeta, you broke your word."

Those words hit him hard. They resonated in a place of memory, in a moment, they'd shared six months after Cell's defeat.

.:.

 _They had been in the boy's room watching Trunk start to fall asleep as he stubbornly tried to keep playing with his toys. Vegeta had gotten too close to her too fast as they both reached for their son at the same time and their noses brushed. The minuscule contact was a siren's call and he didn't resist the urge, shifting slightly to capture in her a long kiss._

 _Gods he had been starved to touch her again, for all his talk about not needing her – he wanted her. She'd pulled away quickly, but kept her hand on his forearm. She focused on Trunks' nighttime ritual, putting their son in his crib, before motioning for him to follow._

 _Enclosed in the quiet of her bedroom, which he hadn't set foot in since he'd found out she was going to bear his child, she started to pace., "I can't…No, I won't do this again."_

 _The rejection stung, but she started speaking again before he could leave out her balcony. To hell with her if she didn't want him._

 _She shook her head, "This is just like Yamacha all over again."_

 _"You will not compare me to that insignificant weakling." He folded his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes at her. "I am superior in every way."_

 _"I wasn't...I'm not…" She glared at him, "Oh, for Kami's sake, it's not a dick measuring contest."_

 _"Another area I am far superior..."_

 _She made a frustrated sound and ran her hands through her hair. "I meant: I can't go around and around with you like I did with him. I can't get on a merry-go-round like that again."_

 _"What the fuck does that stupid carnival ride have to do with anything?"_

 _She plopped down on her bed, but looked up at him, a swirl of emotion in her blue eyes. "What I meant is…Well, you saw what Yamacha and I were like at the end of our relationship. You had a damn front row seat for it. I can't be with someone doesn't respect me. And tempting as you can be, I also can't be with someone just because we're good between the sheets."_

 _He smirked, unable to help himself._

 _She arched an eyebrow at him, than sighed heavily. "I can't be with someone, if they aren't willing to give me the same courtesy and be with me and only me."_

 _"So this is about fidelity? The weakling couldn't stay faithful, so you assume I'm the same." He was incensed. He wasn't some stray animal that fucked anything it got near._

 _She held up her hands as if to show surrender, "No, not at all. I know you wouldn't be unfaithful. But I don't want to be just your fuck buddy and your baby momma. We've spent the last few months as a family and that's been incredible. More than I ever could have hoped for considering how we got started. And I've fallen in love with you…"_

 _She looked away from him, cheeks tinging pink in embarrassment. It was as if the confession had been unintentional, "but…but I can't let you treat me like I don't matter…that hurts too much. I wouldn't expect you to change who you are, but there has to be a middle ground somewhere and I know you wouldn't want…"_

 _He sat down next to her on her bed, touching the side of her face, drawing her close, and ghosting his lips over hers. He realized what the issue was; she wanted a partnership. She refused to only have only a piece of another again. She wanted the whole of him, if this was to be. So be it._

 _"Vegeta..."_

 _"Hush Woman, I will say this only once. I cannot love you the way you'll love me, it's not how things are done. It's not how_ ** _I am_** _, but I do care for you in ways beyond your bed and my son. Listen closely, as I do not want my meaning lost in translation. Your language is ridiculously emotional, just like you humans are, so it is problematic explaining this to you in your words."_

 _"You could try." She implored._

 _"Tsh. I_ ** _am_** _trying. Now be quiet…Bulma."_

 _Her eyes widened in shock, instantly watery with unshed tears._

 _Damn-it, this fragile, yet deceptively strong woman was going to be the death of him._

 _He captured her hand and flattened it against his chest over his heart. "In my culture, I would tell you that I would never turn my back on you in battle, that you have my loyalty, and that the things I do from now on would be to bring you honor and the cause the death of your enemies."_

 _"I think we can skip killing my rival scientists, there's laws against that." She smirked, but quickly continued as he narrowed his eyebrows at her making light of this. "I understand what you're trying to say. I hear you. There's an expression on Earth about how life is a war within itself and with how we are, well...Our life together would be a constant battle for sure. But, if you're promising to be loyal to me through whatever comes our way, than," She took his hand from where it rested on her bed and kissed his knuckles, before resting his palm over her own heart, "than, I accept."_

 _He pressed his lips to her forehead, "You and the boy will always be my priority. I will not turn my back on you in any battle. You have my word, my loyalty is yours."_  
.:.

Guilt clawed up the back of his throat like bile. What had he done? Letting himself be controlled… He had turned his back on her and their life together; deeming it mediocre, mocking it, and even lying to himself that it wasn't what he wanted.

He'd broken his word.

He had spit in the face of the promise that he'd made to her, all for a moment of potential glory, which truly wouldn't have been his to claim, even if he had succeeded. A victory with help was no victory at all. He'd let his fear of becoming complacent in this life blind him to what he had.

She was shaking, but forcing herself not to cry in front of him, clinging to the last bits of her inner strength. Despite her stubbornness, she was in agony. Now he could feel the depth of her pain. His broken promise, causing her more grief then his death had. He had never broken his word to her; it was his bond to her, the only thing that he'd had to give her. His choice to reject the vow had reduced her to feeling dejected, unwanted, and lost.

He was ashamed.

This was not how Saiyan's kept their word. It was not how they treated their chosen life-partners. It was not how he kept _his_ word or how he treated his mate; _his queen_.

"I really want to be alone, pl…"

He shifted from his sitting position and knelt in front of her, his head bowed.

"Vegeta?" Her voice cracked.

She deserved this from him. He had wronged her. She deserved to see him penitent. The position felt so unnatural, so unsettling. A bad memory of being forced down into this position by a boot reared its ugly head, but he pushed it aside. He kept his eyes on the ground.

"Vegeta, what are…?"

"I apologize for breaking my vow to you. I was wrong to forsake you and our life." He could smell her tears and he dared to look up at her.

She covered her mouth to contain whatever sound threatened to escape as she regarded him, her ocean blue eyes finally unguarded.

Shame clawed deeper into him, like talons of an unseen monster. He was the monster. He had done this to her _. It was dishonorable to break your mate in such a way_. There was a moment in a mating arrangement where dominance was asserted, but Saiyans were not cruel to the mate they chose. That bond was forged with respect and trust, things which had been highly regarded in his culture, but so very, very rare.

He had not made that vow to her lightly all those years ago. Now he sought to reaffirm the truth of that pledge, despite his flawed actions. "My loyalty is still yours."

Her heart was hammering in her chest and her entire frame was trembling.

Calculating the risk and deciding that more was needed to convince her, he gingerly took one of her hands and pressed his lips to her knuckles. She smelled like grease from her machine and tools, perfume from the lotion she'd rubbed into her skin, and that intoxicating smell of _her_ that he could pick out anywhere.

"Bulma, I am sorry."

She drew in a sharp breath, but her body relaxed ever so slightly.

He looped one arm around her and pulled her closer as he pressed her palm over his heart, covering it with his own hand. "If you so desire it; I am still yours."

The moments of silence were deafening. All he heard was her heartbeat and her steadying breathes as his blood pounded in his ears. How strange it was to be in a position like this after denying desiring this life less than a day ago.

After an eternity of motionlessness, he felt her tug at his hand. She copied his motions, flattening his palm over her own heart and covering his hand with her smaller one. "And I am still yours."

He hadn't realized that he'd been holding his breath until he let it out with a sound that was more desperate than it should have been as he gathered her into his arms more completely. He crushed her to his chest, tipping up her chin to claim in her mouth in a searing kiss.

Passion was never lacking between them and she kissed him back with the same frantic energy, biting on his lower lip and tangling her tongue with his. Her nails digging into his chest and while her other hand pulled on his hair as she tried to get him closer.

The kiss was a reassertion of their life and commitment. She finally broke the kiss for a moment to gasp in needed air, but he greedily caught her mouth again. _How could he have ever doubted her place at his side?_

Through their clashing teeth and tongues, she panted, "Don't think you're not gonna be crawling on your belly to make this up to me."

"I do not crawl." He growled, shifting and applying his mouth to the column of her neck while pulling down the zipper of her coveralls. "I will, however, find ways to make it up to you."


End file.
